


Below the Cliffs

by comfy3666



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Drabble, M/M, suicide planning, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comfy3666/pseuds/comfy3666
Summary: Komaeda writes in the diary Hinata gave him.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 5
Kudos: 97





	Below the Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> cowers behind my laptop i know what i said about writing something that isnt angst i know!! i do not control the angst. disclaimer: i am not actively suicidal. if you are, please tell someone. im sorry its short, i might add another chapter at some point in the future

It was two weeks after the Program ended when Hinata gave Komaeda a plain black diary, and an especially heavy fountain pen. “I find it helps me, sometimes,” Hinata had explained. “To look back, and sort through my thoughts as they were.” He’d then shuffled away awkwardly, mumbling some excuse about having to help Mioda write a song, but Komaeda hadn’t minded. It was endearing, and Hinata’s faint blush had warmed Komaeda’s chest. 

He has been using it, even if he doesn’t have anything to write some days. Those are the good days, where he doesn’t think about retreating to his cabin and filling the diary, kept in his bedside table with his poisonous, hurtful thoughts, where he doesn’t think about making his way to the island’s cliffs and hurling himself off the precipice. 

He thinks about it more and more every day. How _easy_ it would be, to fly through the air, to feel his body shatter on the hard rocks below the cliffs, bones splintering as he crumples like an empty can of soda. He hardly has friends or family to miss him- he’s sure nobody will be hurt when they find his body. Because he knows, deep down, that it’s only a matter of time. If he can die by his own hand at all. He’s still not sure it will even _work._ Once he had considered suicide as a failing, as something people chose- but now he understands a little better. 

Komaeda opens his diary, glancing over at Hinata sitting on his sofa. They’re sitting in Komaeda’s cabin for once- Hinata had knocked earlier, asking to spend time together. Komaeda had agreed, as long as Hinata didn’t mind that he wasn’t up for much in the way of conversation. 

Hinata smiles at Komaeda, looking up from the book he’s reading. “It’s nice to see you using it,” he says. “Have you found it useful?” 

“I have,” Komaeda beams. If there’s anything amiss with his facade, Hinata doesn’t point it out. _Do you know?_ Komaeda wonders. _Do you know what I’ve been writing in here all this time? Do you know how much every single day wears me down, how_ close _I am to accepting the inevitable?_ He taps his pen to his lips and begins writing, adding the date to the top of the page. 

_Hinata is here. It feels strange writing this while he’s sitting on my sofa. I wonder if he would be hurt by what I’m writing. Probably- he’s kind like that. He pities me, but I don’t want his pity._

_I’ve completely discounted the exit bag as a viable strategy- far too hard to actually make, given the circumstances. The cliffs leave a small risk of paralysis- I don’t know how high they are, but I know they’re high enough, and that’s all that matters. In the case of paralysis, I will leave a short note that specifies I do not want to live in that state. I’m sure one of the others would be kind enough to finish me humanely. I don’t have anything left, now. No friends. No family. No future. Hinata seems insistent on keeping me alive, prolonging my suffering. I wish he wouldn’t. When I think he might actually care, it makes it more difficult. All I need is a change of perspective- I’m actually doing him a favour by killing myself. I don’t want him to care about me. Even without my luck, I know I’ll only hurt him. I’m not completely unaware of how I am- irrational, impulsive, and I love him too much. I can’t see anything about him clearly._

Komaeda pauses his writing, blowing on the ink to help it dry. He leaves it open on the bed where Hinata can’t see it. “Would you like a drink?” He stands up, walking over to the fridge, selecting a can of Blue Ram for himself. 

“Sure,” Hinata nods. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” He looks beautiful, sitting on Komaeda’s couch while the afternoon sun falls over him. 

“Okay,” Komaeda says, stacking two cans so he can easily carry them both in his one hand. He’s learned to improvise, in the time since he’d amputated his other hand. He’s sure that death will be less painful than that, at least.

Maybe. If he has misjudged the cliffs, he could be caught broken in the rocks beneath for hours, unable to scream, unable to move, unable to do anything but wait for someone to notice him missing or pass out. Maybe that’s all he deserves, though. 

Komaeda closes the fridge with his hip and heads to the couch, handing Hinata his can. 

“Ah- Komaeda- you have pen on your cheek.” Hinata says, his tone just a touch too earnest. 

“Oh!” Komaeda raises a hand to his cheek, trying to rub it away. “Thank you, I-”

“No- it’s a little down- here, let me-” Hinata stands up, and all of a sudden he is very much in Komaeda’s personal space, and he’s looking intensely at the ink smudge. He raises his hand to Komaeda’s cheek, trying to smudge the mark away with his thumb.

Komaeda can’t help but watch Hinata’s face. It might be the last chance he gets to be so close to him, he tells himself. He regrets it when Hinata looks back at him, and his thumb stops, and then they’re just standing there, with Hinata’s hand still on his cheek, almost cupping it. 

There’s a beat of silence before Komaeda has to say _something_ , because his heart is going to beat out of his throat otherwise. _“_ Did you get it? The pen, I mean.”

Hinata jerks away and steps back, and maybe Komaeda just wants to think that his cheeks are ever so faintly pink. “Yeah! Yeah, I got it, you’re good now.”

“Thank you,” Komaeda smiles, but it feels wrong on his own face, like it doesn’t quite fit. He has no idea what has just happened, and he decides to brush it off. His heart is still beating too fast. He sits back down and sets his can down. He continues writing, tucking his legs beneath him. 

_Maybe I should do it tonight. Maybe sooner is better than later. I don’t want to die by myself, but if I tell one of the others they’ll try to stop me._

_I guess this might be the last entry. Hinata, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry._

He takes a minute to let the ink dry before closing the diary, setting it and the pen back in his bedside table, closing the drawer with a dull finality. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
